White Collar, Elizabeth Burke/Neal Caffrey/Peter Burke, lingerie shopping
If someone had told Peter earlier that day that he would be watching Neal Caffrey make out with his wife...
Peter probably would have shot them.
Or shot Neal, which was still a temptation.
Neal's hands were on Elizabeth's ass, his fingers were sliding underneath the lacy gauze fabric of the skimpy panties Elizabeth as wearing. Neal's shirt was unbuttoned, and Elizabeth's bare breasts (perky for her age) were pressed against Neal's chest. The black bra that matched Elizabeth's panties dangled from Elizabeth's right wrist, and down Neal's back. Elizabeth's right hand was holding Neal's chin, keeping him from pulling away from the kiss.
Elizabeth allowed Neal to pull back for air, and looked over at Peter. Neal gasped gratefully, his eyes unfocused and staring past Elizabeth's shoulder at the beige painted wall of the Burke's bedroom.
"This one good?" Elizabeth asked, her mouth curling into a pleased smile.
Peter licked his lips. "Want to try the red one on again?"
Elizabeth wiggled her way out of Neal's hands and left them flexing in the air, gripping at where she had been. A wet spot had formed on the front of Neal's designer pants. "I thought the blue looked best, actually."
"It brought out Neal's eyes." Peter pushed himself out of the chair and grasped his wife around the waist, pulling her towards him. Peter let a hand fall to Elizabeth's damp crotch and stroked at her soft folds through the thin fabric. "But not yours."